


Sudden fall

by cheinsaw



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Coma, Cyberpunk, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2302577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheinsaw/pseuds/cheinsaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hatate nearly died on an intel run to Hakugyokurou trying to get more information, and the rumor is that Aya never really got over it." -chasers of the end</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sudden fall

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [chasers of the end](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2064975) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> this fic is based off a subplot point from the first chapter of chasers of the end, which i highly recommend you read if you haven't, because it's great and also this fic will make no sense otherwise.
> 
> i recently attained the privilege of moving 10 minutes away from the wonderfully inimitable tateyamas. fyi, they are the best cuddler, and it's really wonderful to be Bros in Meatspace. danchou, thank you for letting me explore your universe and write super gay ayahata. it has been so much fun to write this, and i'll see you soon!

It's easy to forget, sometimes, how dangerous your job is. It's thrilling, exciting, to be a reporter in this day and age, to uncover the corporations' secrets and the hidden parts of the cyber world. But the threat is always there, that something could go wrong, that a tengu is nothing against what is essentially a digital, binary god.

You'd gone into cyberspace from the comfort of your own apartment, looking for secrets. Working from home, Hatate calls it sometimes, where you sit on the floor together with your twin rigs and dive into pools of data together. And you'll bring what's in the medium back out into the non-digital world, because everyone deserves to know.

"There's a fourth AI," Hatate had said, energetic and big-eyed. "I think they're in the Netherworld and I wanna go check it out." And there you were, with her, flying through the medium. You followed her down to the Netherworld, through lights and strings of code, watching the current of wind whip through her hair.

She held your hand after the two of you broke in, smiling as she squeezed your palm. And she wasn't scared, and neither were you.

What you didn't expect was that the AI, when you got close, could kill with a touch.

 

You don't see it coming. A sudden wall of data, impassable, and you rush to cut through it with her, but she's already made contact with it, and it sets something off, and the ice is thick and deadly, and you can't do anything but watch.

She doesn't even scream, but there's blood, so much. And you buzz out, you can't do this—

Everything in your apartment is just shadows in the darkened room, the curtains still drawn. But you've always been good at seeing in the dark.

Blood on the floor. Hatate, by your side, still jacked in. The little blinking light on her rig. A dark trickle down her face. No.

_NO_

Think think think. What to do? Get her out of the medium _right now_ , first thing. Stop her from bleeding—elevate the head, or was it the feet? Or was that for concussions? Your mind is spinning, out of control, all your knowledge on everything you've ever learned flashing at once like snippets of data before your eyes. And your girlfriend is bleeding in your lap, could die if you don't do something now.

You reach blindly across the floor for your phone.

Nitori is there in a minute flat, bandages in her hands. She helps with Hatate's wounds, stands fretting as you lay her on the bed. "Head injuries bleed a lot even when they aren't really serious," she says hopefully. "Just... let her rest, for now."

 

Hatate doesn't wake up the next day

 

or the day after.

 

She is alive but not, drifting unconscious by your side, and all you want is for her to open her eyes again. "She might know what's going on even though she can't respond," Nitori tells you, and so you talk to her for hours on end, tell her anything you can think of. But it's hard to think of anything to say that isn't _I miss you, I need you by my side, wake up, Hatate._

Upstairs, colonies of amanojaku are tapping at keyboards, are searching for ways to overturn the system. You wish you could show them what happened, what made Hatate like this. But even you don't know what it was.

On the fourth day her eyelids twitch, her mouth contorting into a grimace. It's such a little movement that you almost miss it. Your hopes skyrocket, but she remains unconscious, and you feel so—so _betrayed_ , that all you can do is sit on the kitchen floor and cry.

 

She still isn't waking up and you can't stop seeing her in the second she came out of the medium, not adapting to the real world like usual, falling down limp, a broken doll. Hatate. _Hatate_.

She is laid flat in bed, the lump of blankets steadily rising, falling, rising. As time goes on, sometimes she shudders, or makes a small discontented noise in her sleep. You lie down next to her when that happens, curving your body against hers and holding her close.

"It will be okay," you whisper in her little pointed ear, not just for her, but for yourself.

_please wake up. i love you._

More than a week has passed since it happened and you haven't been working, haven't written anything, haven't even gone into the medium. Here is Hatate, asleep, and you, too shocked to do anything but be by her side. It's a quiet night when she finally moves again: she turns on her side in the middle of the night, and the shifting of blankets and pressure on the mattress wakes you up. "Hatate?" you whisper, not daring to believe it.

"Aya," she says thickly. "I'm really hungry."

You almost laugh. "Hatate," you keep saying, smiling so much your face hurts, throwing your arms around her, helping her sit up and kissing her face.

"Hey, what's up?" She leans her head against your shoulder. "I was just sleeping."

"You were in a coma," you correct her. "You got a bad head wound in the Netherworld and passed out and you just... didn't wake up."

She's quiet. "Really?"

"Yeah. It's been ten days."

She makes a groaning noise. "That might be why I feel... so... sick," she slurs into your neck.

You rub her back in circles, trailing your fingers up to the tips of her wings. "It's alright, Hatate. Lie down."

"Can you get me some food?" she asks, like a sick child to their mother. Her eyes glint, even in the dark of your apartment.

"Sure," you say, rolling out of bed. By the time you come back with a bowlful of rice she's asleep again, her arms tight around a bundle of blankets. But somehow, somehow, you don't feel worried.

 

It's a gradual process, Hatate waking up. She's disoriented, sometimes thinks she's in another place, or that it's a month ago and she's only been asleep for the night. But she recovers, slowly. "I want to go back to the Netherworld," she tells you one day, before she can even walk again.

"Focus on getting out of bed first."

"You _know_ it's different there," she whines. And you do, but you care about her safety more than anything. You won't bring her rig to her. And you can tell she resents you for it, but it doesn't matter. Hatate prefers the medium to real life, and there's no way you'd take that away from her permanently. You hope she understands that all this is only because you care for her more than anything else.

It doesn't stop her wanting it, though, enough to beg you for it. "We have to go back," Hatate breathes, coughs, less than forty-eight hours after she wakes up. "We have. To. Go back."

"Hatate."

"We were so close—"

"You almost died!"

"We can't give up on this," she insists.

"And I can't lose you," you blurt, flush with raw emotion. "Hatate, please, there's nothing—I mean—I want you to stay alive."

"I need to go back," she pleads in a whisper.

"What did you run into down there, anyway?" you ask, almost angry. "What was that important?"

"I don't know!" she snaps. And then she begins to cry, little shaky sobs. "I don't even know what I saw. I can't remember anything. I don't even remember going down there," she wails.

It all feels so wrong and hopeless, that no matter what you've done all these years you've never been able to figure out what the fourth AI even is, and when Hatate gets close—this happens. You're stuck, your throat closing with held-back tears, and so you say nothing. You just shift so she's comfortable in your arms, and together, you lie there, until Hatate calms down and stops crying and you doze off. Rain taps against the window all night, in time to your heartbeats.

"Why are you so set on going there after all this?" you ask in the morning.

She looks at you like it should be obvious. "That's our job. We put our lives on the line for the greater good." She pauses. "I'm ready for whatever happens."

"It's no good if you die! You can't report on it if it kills you."

"But I'm alive," she says. _Trust me_ , is the implication in her words.

 

When she does dive in again, it's with you, and you insist on not going anywhere near the Netherworld, or Hell, or Mayohiga, or Eientei. But for now, that's fine with her. She spreads her wings out and soars up and up through glowing blue and pink currents in the dark of cyberspace, a wide grin on her face.

As you watch her twist through all the lights and loops of code and connections, you know she belongs here. For all she dislikes physically leaving your apartment, she owns her space in the digital world. And that is when she looks the most beautiful to you—confident and smiling.

Hatate turns back to grab your hand, your fingers lacing through hers, and you can feel the energy coursing through her. She is so happy here, and—

you can't help but be happy, too.

 


End file.
